Glass Cat
by Killed for Art's Sake
Summary: A school assigment. A cat shatters, shattering the Wilsons lives as they know it. (George Wilson POV)


Glass Cat

This is it.

I don't think I can stay quiet anymore. 

My hands traced loosely over the dog leash, feeling every fiber of it. The existence of such an object was the final straw that snapped me out of my "trance." It was the soul entity that woke me up.

My wife has a life without me. 

A chill ran up my spine as the words once again sunk into my skull. I don't remember buying her a dog, I haven't even seen one. There has to be someone else that gave her it. But who? If it was nobody important, she would have told me about it. She would have told me...

She didn't tell me because she's hiding something.

There was somebody else in her life. That was the only excuse. It was the only rational reason.

"Myrtle...?" I stood outside her door, casually slipping the dog leash inside my front pocket, "I'd like to speak with you."

She popped her head out of our bedroom, looking a bit surprised. She was very much used to her husband working downstairs in the garage, leaving her to herself and drowning in his work. But I have more pressing things to "drown myself" into.

"What is it, honey?" She took a step back and let me into the room. Once the initial shock of my visit left her, she turned her body a bit and began to fiddle with the knick-knacks on her dresser. My wife had learned to half listen to me. She believed I never had anything to say.

"What ever did happen to your nose?" My voice was still soft as I spoke these words. They were curious. They were prying. I wasn't used to such words.

"I already told you," she looked up innocently, "I was with Catherine, and you see, I had a few drinks. I became horribly disoriented and suddenly something or another gave me a start, you see. I jumped forward quite a bit and crashed into the wall." She blushed slightly, "I feel awfully foolish about the whole manner."

Lies.

"What is it, George?"  


I jolted a bit. It was obvious that she could see the rage forming on my face. I had never been one to control my emotions. I took a breath, and then slowly spoke the words I desired. "I do not believe that is what happened."

Her eyebrows rose a bit, but I could sense the tension in her voice. "What are you talking about?" Blinking, Myrtle turned back to the small glass cat she was fingering just the second before.

And then it was gone.

"Damn it, Myrtle!" My hand moved before I could speak, shattering the synthetic animal. "God knows what you've been doing, everything you've been doing! You may fool me, but you can't fool God!" Bewildered, my wife took a step back.

I firmly grabbed her shoulder and pressed her hard against the window. "Who out there is corrupting you?! Who is it?"

A faint cry escaped her lips as she tried to pull away. But she was unable to, as my hand forced her cheek into the glass.

"N-No one is!" She choked out, "Please let me go, George! This is crazy-talk...it's not like you at all!"

She cried a bunch of other pleads, but I was no longer paying attention. I threw her against the ground and swiftly exited the room, ashamed at my outburst.

But not before locking the door.

****************************************

Earlier this afternoon, I gave Tom's car back. It was pointless of me to keep working on it because I wasn't going to be here for very much longer. I had made my choice; Myrtle and I were leaving. I couldn't risk her meeting with that man again, whoever he was. It was putting her health at risk as well as my own.

For the past day she stayed locked into my room. For the first several hours, she screamed and pounded on the door, threatening to call the police. But the only phone was downstairs and there was no way she would leave that room. Eventually, she grew quiet and no longer pushed her body up to the door.

Stop.

What am I doing?

My head fell onto my desk, panting slightly. Everything was changing now. Everything was different and there was no possible way that it would be the same again.

I had locked my wife in her room and I was going to drag her away kicking and screaming.

What am I doing...?

The door opened and a tall Greek man stepped in, my next door neighbor. His eyes widened a bit as he noticed my current condition.

"George, what's wrong?"

I lifted my head up and shook it slowly. My voice had melted into the heat.

He stepped over towards me, pulling out a chair by my desk. "You look terrible. Shouldn't you go to bed?"

Once I again, I shook my head. This time, I was able find my voice "No...No...I'll miss too much business."

"You know, George, you've really been overworking yourself lately. Don't you think you need a bit of a break?"

I closed my eyes and was about to mutter a "No" when my wife once again found her energy. A crash came from the floor above. Michaelis looked up, puzzled at the noise.

"A dog maybe?" He blinked.

I twitched, the image of the leash flashing through my head.

"I've got my wife locked in up there." My eyes were calm. I had to hide my weakness from him. "She's going to stay there till the day after tomorrow and then we're going to move away."

He leaned over and started to quiz me about exactly what was going on. He asked me why I had suddenly decided to move and why I needed my wife locked up in order to.

Why is he so concerned about her? Why would he bother about her?

There is only one explanation.

I looked up, meeting his eyes. "What were you doing last Monday 'bout noon?"  


He paused and shook is head. "I don't know..."

"How would you not know?" I stood up, my fists trembling. "What were you doing?"

"Look," his eyebrows raised, "I'm not sure what you're talking about, but I was at my shop then."

No. You do know what I'm talking about. 

I won't believe it.

"What about last month, around the 23rd?" My voice quickened, "What were you doing then?"

  
He's it.

He has to be the one.

"What are you talking about?" He took a step back. "Look, I have some people heading over to my store. I'll speak with you later."

And he was gone.

I fell back into my seat, panting slightly. I'll speak with him later. Although I don't think he was lying. He couldn't feign that kind of confusion.

There were footsteps behind me. I jerked and pulled around. Myrtle had escaped.

She stood in the doorway to the garage, her body trembling all over. Her face was dangerously pale. Her mouth opened as if to say something, but then she shut it and remained motionless.

I stood up again and started moving towards her, my goal was to take her back to her room. Before I could reach her, she jumped back and screamed.

"Beat me!" Her eyes were wild, "Throw me down and beat me, you dirty little coward!" And with that she bolted out the door.

I stood in shock for a moment, horrified that my beloved wife had called me such words. She is the one that I love, and yet she speaks harshly as if she should hate me.

But she should hate me, because of what I had done to her.

I followed her to the doorway, just to catch her running towards a yellow car, frantically waving her hands as if she was dancing.

And then it was over.

********************************************

"Oh my God...Oh my God..."

My hands clutched feebly to the railings of my office as I blindly stared ahead.

A man stood behind me, speaking in a low voice in an attempt to calm me down. "Look, Mr. Wilson, it's alright. All sortsa things happn' nowadays like this...and well...everything is better in the end." 

No. This won't get better.

I know it.

It's over.

It's all over.

"And...Ya know, she's in a better place right now."

Yes, of course. She's in a better place.

  
She's away from me.

Oh God...how much pain was she in? It... just hit her. Just like that.

Oh my God...oh my God...

They were talking about the car in the lawn, I could tell. They were talking about the object that took my wife away from me casually as if it was nothing. It sickened me, they acted like I was helpless.

I leaned over the railing and screamed out to them, "You don't have to tell me what kind of car it was!" I was panting and gasping, nearly out of breath. "I know what kind of car it was!"

Before I had time to think, Tom was upon me. He firmly held my arms, as if to make sure I wouldn't run away. "You've got to pull yourself together."

I gasped. He was too close to me. I got on my tiptoes in an attempt to pull away, but at this point my body was too weak. I fell against him.

Helpless.

He babbled something about the car that hit Myrtle and how it wasn't his, but I eventually closed my eyes and stopped listening. He was talking to the man behind me, and then I felt myself lifted off the ground and placed in a chair in my office. As Tom left, two other men stepped in to keep me company. Exhausted, I slouched over in my chair and attempted to block out the rest of the world.

*********************************

They were gone.

My eyes widened slightly as I picked myself up from the office chair. The lights had been turned off in hopes of helping me sleep, but it didn't do anything. The people that were watching me had already left. I unlocked the drawer and removed the gun I kept for emergencies.

I was free now.

My feet dragged across the floor as I walked towards the door. I pushed it open and stepped out onto the concrete lawn. Then I saw it.

The road.

I squeezed my eyes closed, my hands grasping at my head.

She was lying there.

She was lying right there.

He killed her.

He killed her!

My eyes finally found the strength to open and I slowly made my way down the street.

The one who took my wife away from me.

He will pay.

*************************************

"A yellow car?" The shop owner looked to the sky in thought. I had made it to a garage on West Egg.

I nodded my head quickly.

Yes. That's it.

That's it.

"You'll have to tell me the kind of car. Lots of them come here nowadays."

"It was a big." I muttered, "It was pretty unusual."

"You know," the man leaned back against the wall, his eyes focused on the red car he was fixing, "One of my regulars has a yellow car. It's big too."

"His name?"

"Jay Gatsby, I believe."

I spoke his name softly, letting each syllable pass over my lips.

"What's this for, anyway?" The man looked up.

But I was already out of the door.

********************************************

I came to a large house. I knew this was the one. Without a doubt, this house belongs to the being that took Myrtle away from me. He was an abusive man, he must have forced her into a relationship. Then she tried to stop his car...

I'm not ready for this.

I let the gun fall limply to my side. I needed to pause and think for a moment. He could be powerful. He could be waiting for me.

My body shook all over as I made my way to the backyard in hopes to hide myself from view. And then, I saw him.

He was lying in the pool, closing his eyes on a raft as if he didn't have a care in the world. He could even be asleep!

My fist tightened.

No. I can do this right now. I can do it all right now.

I crouched behind the bushes, the gun ready in my hands.

He took her away from me.

There is no other option.

My hands closed around the trigger and 3 distinct shots ran across the open lawn. There was a small splash and then silence. And then it was over.

I gasped, my body shaking uncontrollably.

He was dead.

Oh my God...oh my God...

__

"God knows what you've been doing, everything you've been doing! You may fool me, but you can't fool God!"

Oh my God...oh my God...

I raised the gun to my head.

__

"All sortsa things happn' nowadays like this...and well...everything is better in the end." 

No. Things don't get better.

__

"Beat me! Throw me down and beat me, you dirty little coward!" 

And then I fired.


End file.
